Sequoia Coast oil tears

It came time for his brothers to go on their journey, as he had. Fortunate to see this, glad to have been home in time for such a rite, Raiyuk was content to follow along and aid where he could. He cajoled those that accepted his presence, and gave smiles to those too shy to meet their elder brother directly; he followed Chakliux and hunted when needed, asked or not. There was a particular role for an older brother in this, and he was glad to find his place.

The path was familiar, until the storm pushed at them and drove them back. Raiyuk saw a weight to his father which had not been there the first time they had done this. He kept all questions back from his tongue. It was better to work, and to show his brothers what a seal hunter looked like, and to provide now in ways that he'd been unable to before, given how often he traveled. He wished his brothers to know him and to trust him—as until this point, Raiyuk was closer to a story told by Chakliux, or Tullik, or Marina, to those younger.

Once a site for their camp was chosen, Raiyuk aided in the building of sleeping-places by packing ice, or cutting through with claws and the heaving of shoulders, with digging or with smoothing. His breath plumed; silence came and went, and came again, as questions were asked by one or anther of his siblings, or a complaint maybe, all taken with a smile as Raiyuk focused on this task.

Then, after, Raiyuk saw to it that his brothers were safe and together, and that their father was with them too. Picturing them all together as one hunting party reminded Raiyuk of his travels and the people he had met, and soon he was resting among the sleeping-places, awake but distant and reminiscent of things he had seen, or done, and left behind in favor of this.